28.4.07

Eugene and Tom


Last weekend I took a road trip to lovely Eugene, Oregon to visit with some friends (who go to bed WAY too early) and to see a fella’ by the name of Tom Heinl.
I saw him open, quite accidentally, for the Meat Purveyors at the Dour Fir and I spent the whole time laughing at his Johnny Cash with a severely skewed sense of humor take on country music (Jesse, this may be something you want to check out).
He is from Eugene and I randomly saw that he was playing a free show there at a coffee shop. Couple that with me needing to get out of town for a spell and me having two good friends in the same town, and well, I was on the computer booking a bus ticket quicker than you can say “I can’t believe I just stapled my balls/left labia majora to the floor.”
So I went, and was met by friends outside of the bus station (the advent of the iPOD has made even the hell that is Greyhound tolerable). One was scattered and quick with the smiles as usual, and one had started drinking too early (he stopped making sense and fell into an internal babble dialogue that we could kind of hear at a soul food restaurant somewhere in the vicinity of midnight).
So, that night was quick and early (1 AM? My friends are Mormons, I suspect) and the next day E—and I made our way to a charming little place called the Wandering Goat to see Tom Heinl. G—made it, somewhat hungover but sociable.
The place was small and I tanked up on the caffeine while chatting with E—. It was a nice time.
This was going to be an intimate show. A coffee shop, a stage-like platform, Tom wandered in with his guitar, plugged in, and started talking.
Now, this is a funny guy. Not too many people make me laugh outloud, but he can do it. Apparently he hosts a stellar Bingo night on Mondays. He boasted that the next round’s prizes were going to be a mint-condition tube of Linkin’ Logs (“They’ve still got the directions, though I don’t know why you’d need directions”) and some binoculars. It would appear that they also were prone to giving out one of those talking fish plaques out as a prize, but he said that they kept finding it in the bushes at the end of the night, so it was off the list of things to play for.
He launched into his set and we all laughed and had a great time. His cover of Tom T. Hall’s “I Love” is spectacular… though it is more accurate to refer to it as a version rather than a cover as I’m sure Tom T. Hall never mentioned Play-Doh in his nose or “spankins’ that smarts.”
His song “Three Way” makes me cringe every damned time, as it is so fucking obvious that any guy who expresses an interest in trying a three way with his girl would be, more often that not, a little taken aback when she agrees and brings another guy home.
Country music… rarely a happy ending.
I can’t do the man justice here. You should check out his website, then buy his albums (start with “With or Without Me.” It’s genius!).
After the show there was, if I can recall correctly, a nap, a viewing of “Volver” which G— and I didn’t realize was a chick flick, more aptly named “Vulva,” and a great curry dinner. Then there was beer, and Boggle, and people talking in their sleep (“Crusty? Can we do Crusty?”) and a sound sleep.
Thanks G— and E— for your hospitality and thanks to Tom Heinl for being Tom Heinl. If I ever get fired I will be there on Monday for bingo night.

11.4.07

ROKY!

I have only gotten into Roky Erikson in the past year or two. He had a song on the Return of the Living Dead soundtrack (Burn the Flame) that I have always loved but I never knew anyone who had any of his albums so I could check it out the rest of his sounds. Finally one day here in town I found a few used CDs and grabbed them. The 13th Floor Elevators are amazing and Roky's solo stuff is a bit spotty, but fun. More like a Tales from the Crypt comic than music, but it has flashes of genius. I am drawn a lot more to the fact that he is nuts. Insane artists intrigue me. It's probably not healthy or nice, but I can't help it.
I read about this documentary awhile ago and finally there is a trailer. Check it out if you want.

7.4.07

Shameless Self-Promotion, Again...

Well, I have 2 more reviews posted at this metal magazine I hooked up with. Check them out if you want. Then be sure to look at pictures of black-clad girls with a lot of tattoos, and fire graphics, and... and... you know, just do what you are gonna do. I don't look at the damned thing. Why should you?
Here's a polite review of a crappy album
Here is an honest review of an awesome album
Here is a picture of a giant fucking jellyfish

Can't...seem...to...write...coherent...piece...


-Jesus comes back to life and demands “More Brains!”
-Cedric the Entertainer is sued for false advertising
-I can do 40 push-ups.
-My roommate claims “Lord of the Rings” is an excellent film and “Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas” is not, thereby adding yet another question to my growing list of things I should ask potential roommates.
-Jay, I meant to ask you this earlier, but if Seth McFarland curates an All Tomorrows Parties would you then give him some respect? You show your age by claiming the Family Guy is a cheap imitation of The Simpsons. You might as well claim that Ani DeFranco is just riding the coattails of Charo (“Cootchie, cootchie!”) or that Tim Conway should get a percentage of every paycheck that Adam Sandler pulls in because of that whole Dorf on Golf/Happy Gilmore thing. Geezer.
-Someone hates me.
-Someone doesn’t.
-Others straddle the border betwixt the two.
-Used CD scores late last night at Everyday Music (open ‘til midnight every night, bitches!): Pocket Symphonies by Air, Houdini by the Melvins, Enemy of the Sun by Neurosis, and Summer Make Good by Mum. All fine purchases so far. I went in looking for the Neurosis album, specifically because the apocalyptic sounds have been doing a lot for me these days. The others were just blessings from the Zombie Christ.
-With this new found and sporadic warm weather the really fucked up people are coming out at night. The tweekers, the doomed, the hookers that were in hibernation for the rain and cold are out in public again. Walking down Interstate at night is awesome. It’s a row of hotels and motels that are there for no other reason other than to house hookers, drug dealers, drug addicts, and that one poor family who actually has fallen on hard times and are trying to make it through a bad patch by staying in a shit hole to save money. Good luck to them and their children. Uncle Jesse, you should come and bring your sketch pad. Very Eureka-like.